It's not a Satchel

First of all, dear readers, my apologies for another week-long gap between posts, turns out graduate school still requires a lot of time – you’d think by the time I entered 20th grade I would have figured that out. Nevertheless, in the post below I endeavor to share a peace that I have reached with a topic that – to be quite honest – created some anxiety upon my arrival one month and one day ago. It is not the language barrier, the difference in culture, or the fact that Abbey and I took out a good amount of loans to make this year happen that brought about this anxiety, rather it was the anticipation of finally realizing a long latent desire as Parisian cultural norms dictate the carrying of a purse is, indeed, a universal privilege whereas, in the good ole U.S. of A. [insert Sarah Palin-esque wink], this privilege is reserved for females and effeminate males.

I don’t mean to say that either of these groups are either rightly stereotyped, made lesser people, or solely defined by the act of purse-carrying; I merely intend to state that I don’t believe myself to fit in to either of these groups, making purse-carrying a socially unacceptable behavior for myself. Being somewhat of a conformist overly concerned with how other people perceive me, I am wary of defying this longstanding, though unwritten, societal mandate. Then I arrived in Paris.


Everyone in Paris carries a purse. Let’s bracket that thought for the moment while I define the term purse. Many American males attempt to avoid the use of the term “purse” when it refers to a bag that is in their possession – probably due to the type of fears I expressed above. The terms “man-bag,” “man-purse,” “murse,” “knapsack,” “briefcase,” “satchel,” “messenger bag,” and myriad others have been used by American males to refer to their purses in order to mask the fact that they fall into the category of purse-carriers. I am ok with calling it a purse. As the cliché goes, “it is what it is.” Here at the American University of Paris we were issued a standard black cloth purse upon arrival at Orientation that was labeled something like an “adventure pack” or some other clever name to convince American males that it was NOT a purse. It’s a purse. We are, after all, graduate students in need of some sort of bag to carry books, notebooks, pens, and other student-related paraphernalia to and from class. I hereby state, though, that henceforth a school backpack should properly be referred to as a purse. Any bag that someone carries – whether endowed with two X’s or one or anywhere in between and beyond – will be referred to by me as a purse. This includes the three purses that I have been rotating between since my arrival in Paris. Back to the point – everyone here carries a purse. Abbey and I counted in the metro yesterday: walking up the stairs there were 7 people, 6 of whom were purse-carriers. The other one: a loser.


Why am I so excited about finally being able to carry a purse? Let’s do some math. Abbey and I have been together (dating exclusively, then getting married) since December of 2002. We have lived in the southeast United States for the duration of our relationship and, therefore, experience four seasons per year. Due once again to societal norms, at some point it was popularly mandated that different colored/textured/patterned/materialed purses be carried in each season. It is currently between Summer and fall of 2009. That makes winter of ’02, all four seasons in ‘03, all four in ‘04, all four in ’05, all four in ’06, all four in ’07, all four in ’08, and two full seasons thus far in ’09. For those math studs reading, that makes twenty-seven seasons and…you guessed it…27 purses for Abbey (this list does not include VT themed purses carried to game day or those given as gifts). Now, I will be the first to admit that Abbey re-uses purses (she may have used the same fall purse from 2006 as she did in 2008). However, the bottom line is that I have travelled to grocery stores, restaurants, gas stations, and shopping malls with a pen and keys in my right front pocket, a cell phone in my left front pocket, and a wallet in my back right pocket for nearly a decade. In that time, Abbey has carried roughly 20 purses, all with different pocket schemes/storage spaces. Granted, in this time, I was a student carrying a backpack (purse). However, my keys, phone, change, pen, and wallet all remained in my pants and shorts pockets and I only carried my backpack (purse) to class-related/textbook-necessitating functions. I was not utilizing my purse to its full potential for fear of my manly man backpack being mistaken for a girly purse. Each time Abbey and I would venture out and she would find occasion to delve into the chasm strapped to her shoulder to locate the 43 cents for change I would spend roughly 17 minutes thinking “If I had a purse, it would be SO much more organized than that.” That “if” is now, at long last, a reality.


On to my purses: my timbuk2 brand purse has a pocket in the front of it that conveniently holds all of the prior contents of my pants pockets. Wallet: Check. Cell Phone: to heck with a cell phone, I don’t have one at the moment and I love it. Keys: check. Additionally, in this compartment I carry a small map of Paris, a thumb drive, and writing utensils - it also has a small zipper pocket for change. These are all easily accessible with minimal rummaging. Furthermore, there is ample room for all of the necessary books, folders, and notebooks, that I may need on any given day (It is even equipped with a padded compartment for my laptop). There is also a front pocket big enough for an ipod and a zipper compartment that conveniently holds my metro card. This is truly a student’s purse – American gender roles be damned. My AUP purse is the next size down from my Timbuk2 purse but has no compartment for my laptop. My third, and smallest, purse is fantastic – if you are facebook friends with myself or Abbey, you have already seen a candid shot of this purse in action. Just big enough for my wallet, keys, map of Paris, and metro card, there is no rummaging necessary in this little, awesome, blue-cloth purse.


I sense that you are judging me.


However, I wager that your judgment arises from jealousy or a sense of awe. If you are a NPCM (non-purse-carrying male) you are jealous of the fact that my right butt cheek doesn’t go numb when I sit down for an extended time due to the wallet in my pocket. Further, as a NPCM, you are likely envious that I do not get poked in the leg by my keys and change doesn’t fall out of my pockets when I sit down. If you are a purse-carrying female you are no doubt impressed by my organizational prowess displayed by the easily accessed contents of my various purses. I am sure that all the jokes that will be made at the expense of my purse-carrying are merely manifestations of the aforementioned envy and awe of the great improvements in my efficiency as a citizen directly due to my carrying of a purse as well as indications of the fear that grips American males as they come to terms with the fact that, perhaps, carrying a purse is a good (great)idea.


Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get my purse together for class.